


Some Blessings

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle, Deathly Hallows Pt 2, Drarry, Dying Day, M/M, Magic, More articulated complexities, Not so much BXB, Other, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The day has arrived, one filled of war & wands, death & sorrow. In a rare moment of peace among the storm, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are secluded. It was simple.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written to and for a song by the musicians ELO (Electric Light Orchestra), titled Strange Magic. 
> 
> Apologies for the lack of palpable DraRry, I merely wrote this on an impulse as I read the newspaper. 
> 
> May be continued.

"Draco."

The aforementioned glanced up, welcomed with the sight of The Boy Who Lived, also serving as his arch rival since he first set foot in Hogwarts. He was beautiful.

"Potter."

There was evident bitterness in his tone. Draco didn't mean for that at all this time, in fact - after instantly regretting his defensive stance - he chalked it up to years of hiding. He had tried, he had failed. Draco hadn't made many mistakes - not many he acknowledged, that is - and the day he met Harry was something he most certainly didn't mean for. The days that followed weren't either, nor were the years after the day he tried to befriend the boy. He loathed himself for it, and a whole lot of other things.

And now they stood, fog and death and leaves and bitterness itself surrounding them like dye marbling in water. Oh, they were once so pure! Draco found himself baffled at how much this had changed, how much it had all changed really. Adjacent to Potter, both standing straight yet wounded, Draco thought he might die. Never faced with emotion. Of course, he had emotions. His sociopathy was forced upon him, but not something he actually ever acquired. What a bother.

Now this thunderstorm came surging into his head, faced with death and evil - and most of all Potter -, and he had no bloody idea whether to scream his lungs out until he choked on them or simply walk away.

Draco felt the latter had more meaning, but was tempted by both.

Not succumbing to his desires to asphyxiate or leave, he just looked at Harry. It was a pleasant compromise. Rather similar to screaming and leaving, he thought.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

_But did you really?_

The additional words were a bother. Of course he wanted to say it, why would he say them if it didn't please him? The Boy Who Lived was about to (most probably) die, what would he be doing spitting out things he didn't want to say to people he didn't want to say them to? Draco supposed pointing this out wouldn't be very appropriate in the current situation, though he was a bully after all. What difference would it make?

He chose to nod.

Polite.

"Is that all?"

Harry opened his mouth, much alike to a choking fish, and looked Draco dead on. It was an accident, but it was terrifying. He could see the hurt from metres away. Was this normal for Potter? He guessed it must've been, people wearing their hearts on their sleeves did that, didn't they? Show their pain on their face?

Upon further inspection, Draco realised there was completely no difference between his usual expression and his current one. He could simply (or complexly?) feel it practically radiating off of the kid. Pity.

Harry looked down once again and took a breath, hesitating like the sap he is. Draco liked it. He smirked a little, probably seeming a bit rude (vulgar, even) but not minding. There were no expected expressions to be wearing in a war.

"No, actually."

Harry swallowed with his already closed throat. Clicks in his temples, salivation at an all time low, and painful breaths. He found consolation in Draco's breathing. Inaudible, but there. Like a silent purr from an overly smug cat. It was music to his shredded nerves.

Draco was a little irritated at his incapability to end a sentence with proper conclusion. Harry's wheezing breaths were also greatly frustrating. It was comforting.

"The time.. When we were kids. When you wanted to shake my hand?"

Draco scoffed inwardly. It had hurt at the time, but did he really think it mattered now?

But then Malfoy looked at the big picture. His entire schooling, walking through the corridors, throughout classes, his overbearing grudge against a significant quartet of the school community, it all came from him. Maybe he was just looking for a reason to hate Potter so it wouldn't hurt so very much to play a part in his murder?

"Yes?"

Draco felt his mouth bleed, sucking as hard as he could on his miniature wound. Well, it was miniature in comparison to what was sure to come. Especially if the Dark Lord found out he'd met with the boy and hadn't called upon him. Though, he did seem much more bothered about his plan in the forest. Yes, maybe this was safe. Maybe, for once, Draco could just push everything out and listen to somebody.

And if that somebody didn't want to speak, he would listen to his breathing, like a lifeline itself. It drove him. Harry Potter drove Draco Malfoy to the better half of the battle. He was going to betray it all and have a chat with the Chosen One. The scandal.

He _loved_ it.

"I just thought, maybe it's time to apologise for .. that. You understand? I never thought it'd end up like this, and it'd be a comfort to know I've told you I regret it."

Draco looked down, breaking his prim and proper (condescending) facade for just a moment.

He laughed.

Harry's green gaze shot up at the sound of the princey bastard having a bloody chuckle at his heartfelt apology.

"Look, I know it probably means nothing to you, but-"

"No, no. It's not that Potter."

He tried to hold a straight face, but minuscule bursts of real shone through. Oh, yes, they shone like the bloody sun. It was as if the gloomy woodlands had let go of their eerie demeanour. They welcomed a new sort of sun, not that old thing in the sky.

Harry was utterly baffled by it.

"What? What is it then?"

He smiled a little, of course he did. Anybody would faced with the new face of Draco Malfoy. Right then, right there, Harry knew he wasn't scared of losing. He was going to win.

Anybody who had seen a Malfoy laugh was a winner.

"It's just everything. It's all bloody mental."

Harry bit back a smile, thinking about one thing. He couldn't pinpoint what that was exactly, but he knew it was confusing.

Draco suddenly sort of wanted to be thrown into the ocean.

"It is a bit mental, isn't it?"

Harry chuckled with him. It faded after a short while. It was lovely.

Oh, bloody _Hell_ , what was he to do?

Harry had no plan whatsoever of what was going to go down when he saw Voldemort. He was merely going to whip out his wand and hope for the best.

His plan could also be described as: _try, then die._

Was the last regular (?) person he'd see going to be his (second) worst enemy? Was Draco Malfoy the last one he'd ever laugh with?

Draco had the same thought. He was going to die. Of course he was. He was with the bad guys, the bad guys always lose.

Maybe just for now, he could be with the good guys.

Just for this little while.

Gifted with the presence of Judas to the dark side, Harry couldn't really believe he was here with Draco. It wasn't like he was such a horrid person he couldn't ever imagine him not trying to kill his mood (and him?), it was just.. he wasn't expecting it. It was surprising.

Wonderful.

"I accept your apology."

Draco said, killing the thoughtful mood with a dreary tone of voice. He really couldn't help it, he'd grown up with Lucius Malfoy as a father for Merlin's sake, and good old _Voldemort_ as an _uncle_.

Harry nodded.

Draco chuffed himself up, straightened out his robes, and held out a hand to his arch enemy.

Harry tried not to think as he held his own right back out for him.

They met.

"Friends?"

Harry timidly suggested,

"Friends."

Draco affirmed.

Their hands shook once and departed their cosy matched hands.

The Malfoy saluted Harry before heading into the mist that would undoubtedly envelop him,

"And may death do us part, Harry Potter."


End file.
